72: The Seal of Solomon

Conrad awoke to the walls shaking. Alarms came on immediately following. Hands instinctively grabbed pistol and bowie knife as he ran for the door to his cell. Emergency lights were on in the hallway. Power had gone out. Conrad hoped this was false alarm. No one attacks Tintagel.

Then he heard the crash in the main room. He came running to the door. There was a blood smear on the security pad. He slipped on a glove and pressed in the code. He opened the door and stood to the side, pistol at the ready. He peered cautiously over the side and saw Paul wrestling with a man in all black. As he turned to head inside, he heard quiet footsteps rushing toward him. Conrad turned to see the black blur headed toward him.

He lifted his knee into the man's chest and brought a bone shattering elbow across his jaw. A second elbow to the side of the head sent the man to the ground. The second assailant was immediately behind the first. A flying knee caught Conrad square in the chest. Conrad brought his hands up just in time to block the in coming punches. A shove to the chest knocked the assailant back. Flurries of strikes, counters, blocks and hand traps brought the assailant to the ground. Whoever was attacking was well trained.

Machine gun fire could be heard further down the hall.

“You okay to fight?” Conrad asked Paul. Paul nodded. Conrad peered down the hall. Three more in black. Conrad fired, taking one down, then ducked as the others returned fire. The walls shook again.

“Why are they bombing if they have men inside?” Paul asked aloud.

“They're not bombing the building. They're blowing open a Sanctum!” Conrad exclaimed. He reloaded and fired until both hostiles were dropped. He ran, picking up the sub-machine guns from the two downed targets, and passing one to Paul, they kept running.

He could still hear fighting down the hall. Then, suddenly, all Hell broke loose.

Not the traditional 'things went bad', or 'the situation turned ugly.'

The unearthly screams and howls echoed off the walls and left a cold burn that went down to Conrad's very core. All the different screams and whispers that sounded like they were already inside his eardrum hit crescendo. He winced in pain and toppled sideways while Paul fell to the ground screaming. He could feel jagged claws ripping at the edges of his sanity. Unearthly heat and cold rocketed through the halls in an ethereal shock wave, knocking him flat.

Whispers of unearthly horrors and torments washed across Conrad's vision in tapestries of nightmare. He buckled again until all he could do was writhe, close his eyes, and scream.

He came to some time later. He was unsure of how much time had gone by. Paul was still unconscious. He remembered the Sanctum. He stood slowly, the world swirling around him. His head throbbed. He felt like he was going to vomit. He held on tightly to the gun and used the wall to hold himself aloft as he staggered down the hallway.

He retched before making it around the corner. What he saw at the turn made his heart stop. The door to the Sanctum of Solomon had been obliterated.

Blood was smeared across the door frame and hallway. Body parts strewn like refuse. He kept his gun level. He walked quietly in case there were any more intruders. There was no movement. There was no sound.

He walked past the threshold and his greatest fear was realized. The bronze urn of Solomon has shattered into pieces. Bodies of his fallen comrades lay dead on the floor. But a solitary hazy figure stood quietly, starting at him. He pointed the gun at it. It did not react. Conrad did not move until help arrived.

It was twenty minutes before Paul staggered down the hall. Conrad immediately sent him for help. It was another twenty before help came.

The perimeter of the compound had been a war zone. Bodies lay everywhere. Whoever attacked had not been concerned about collecting their dead. The other Templars gave Conrad the run down. It was bad. The death toll had not been taken yet. Reinforcements were being called in, as well as medical teams, a mock construction crew to create an alibi for the incident, and a media team to suppress any additional attention on this event. The Templars had a wide reach.

Those gathered entered the Sanctum of Solomon carefully. The bloody bodies of their fallen brothers lay upon the floor where they fell. The Brass Urn of Solomon lay shattered about the floor. They strode forward, blades drawn.

A single dark figure stood amidst the broken shards. It remained motionless as the Templars entered the room. They stood tense, moving around it in a semicircle.

“What is it?” Emmerich asked.

“I don't know. It hasn't moved since I got here,” Conrad answered. Emmerich looked Conrad over. He looked like Hell warmed over.

“You need to report to a medic,” Emmerich said.

“Not until we get this sorted out. I want to know who or what this is, and what happened here,” Conrad said, not taking his weary eyes off the creature.

“We were hit. Hard. Mercenary army most likely. This room is what they were after. After the explosion, those remaining outside split,” Simon interjected. Simon was a special operative always in war torn areas. He had seen nearly every battle ground on the planet for the last twenty years.

“I think what they unleashed was more than they bargained for,” Simon smirked.

“You think they were here to steal it?” Conrad asked.

“Who even knows it's here?” Simon replied.

Emmerich held up a hand.

“All in due time. First,” Emmerich said, pointing toward the dark figure.

A dark, guttural speech emitted something entirely unintelligible. Conrad cast a sidelong glance to Timothy. Simon broke the silence.

“He's trying to speak to us,” Simon stated.

“What's he saying?” Conrad asked.

“Sounds ancient, Babylonian maybe?” Simon replied.

“Babylonian?” Conrad asked.

“These demons were locked away by King Solomon himself. He'll know languages from the time,” Timothy interjected.

Timothy was slight of build for a Templar. He was trained in various forms of combat. Such was required of any Templar. But his focus was in ancient languages and symbolism.

Conrad looked from Timothy to the demon.

“Why isn't he moving?” Conrad asked.

“I don't know,” Timothy responded.

The demon raised one hand. The Templars all tensed, ready for battle.

“Ready,” Conrad called out.

The demon walked toward the edge of the broken shards and paused. It moved its hand forward and pressed against solid air.

“He's trapped,” Gunther said excitedly.

“How?” Conrad interjected.

“The shards of the seal could still hold his particular seal intact,” Timothy posited.

“It's a trap,” Simon interrupted.

“Or it could be a trap,” Timothy added.

The Templars dispersed with three armed Templars watching the demon, each armed with enchanted weaponry; enchanted by the magic of Solomon himself, passed down through the Templars since the unveiling of the Temple itself.

Conrad took a shower, a protein shake, and headed straight back to the Sanctum. He answered more questions about the attack to the other department heads. Emmerich was on the phone giving orders to the field officers. Henry, their de facto field secretary was answering calls and relaying emails. There were a lot of people in the organization that wanted to know what was going on. There were a lot of questions to be answered. Henry and Emmerich were asking just as many questions as they answered. They wanted to know if there was any information as to who planned this attack.

Paul had been taken to his quarters to lie down. He had begun vomiting after everyone else arrived.

Timothy sat near the demon, between the armed Templars, looking through a pile of books and attempting to communicate in various languages.

Losing patience, Simon strode forth.

“What's your game?” he said in Hebrew.

The demon recoiled. The armed guards flinched, expecting combat. The demon recovered and remained motionless. The room exchanged confused glances, save Simon. Simon smiled.

“Of course you hate Hebrew. It's imprisoned you for over three thousand years,” Simon stated in English.

“Does it bring you pain I wonder?” Simon continued, this time in Hebrew. The demon recoiled again and shrieked slightly; an inhuman, grating sound. The men winced. Simon seemed to be relishing this.

“Well it clearly processes Hebrew,” Timothy noted aloud.

“But this doesn't seem to be an effective form of communication,” Conrad added. Timothy looked over and nodded his ascent.

“I find it quite effective,” Simon interjected. Conrad shook his head. Shutting a book, Timothy stood suddenly. He said something in a guttural tone. No one seemed to process it. Save the demon. The demon turned its head toward Timothy and responded.

Timothy had been making notes upon a yellow legal pad on a clip board. He consulted his notes, writing something quickly. He replied. The demon spoke again. Then Timothy. Then the demon. Then Conrad.

“You care to let us in on the conversation?” he asked.

“Sorry, Babylonian is difficult, and I'm far from fluent.”

“What's he saying?” Conrad asked.

“That his name is Baloath, and that he's trapped here,” Timothy informed. Conrad nodded.

“Or he's playing us,” Simon intruded.

“Or he's playing us,” Timothy agreed dryly.

“What does he want?” Conrad asked.

“How did you know?” Timothy asked.

“Body language. That and he's a demon. Why communicate with us unless he wants something,” Conrad said, not taking his eyes from the demon.

“He wants to make a deal,” Timothy said cautiously.

“What?” Simon and Conrad asked simultaneously.

“He says he can help us collect the other demons that escaped,” Timothy replied.

“How?” Gunther asked.

Conrad shot Gunther an angry look. Timothy looked imploringly. Conrad sighed and nodded.

“There are seventy-one demon lords loose right now. He offers to help collect them, in return we set him free,” Timothy informed.

There was a long uneasy silence. Each Templar eyed the other. Simon and Conrad locked eyes for a long, thoughtful moment.

“Absolutely not,” Conrad replied.

“What?” Timothy asked, surprised.

“I'll make no deals with the devil. We leave him here. Guarded. And we go collect the others,” Conrad finished.

“You're sure?” Timothy asked.

“Positive,” Conrad replied. He looked about the room at the other Templars.

“Guards stay here. Timothy, see what you can learn from him. Everyone else, suit up. We've got hunting to do,” Conrad said, walking toward the door. Timothy shrugged. The demon simply shook its head.

“How are we going to find them?” Gunther asked. Conrad called for a lap top. The local news showed a string of unexplained warehouse fires downtown.

“We could start there,” Timothy noted flatly.

“Gear up,” Conrad said. Everyone's blood ran cold. They were heading into the belly of the beast. An arch-demon of the ancient world. Although each Templar had slain numerous monsters, everything before this had just been practice.

Simon stood first, heading to the armory. Gunther followed slowly, with Fredrick, Hans and Glen behind. Timothy remained sitting.

“What are we going to do about him?” Timothy asked, pointing to Balaoth.

“He'll be under guard until we return. Timothy, I'd like you to prepare wards in and around the room,” Conrad answered.

Timothy looked at him questioningly.

“Now,” Conrad finished. Timothy stood and exited the room quickly. Conrad turned to face the demon. They surveyed each other for a long moment.

“We will get you,” Conrad said. The demon remained still and silent but something about his demeanor lead Conrad to believe that at some level, he understood. With that, Conrad left the room.

Emmerich addressed the Templars in a meeting room.

“This will be unlike any mission you have faced before. Be ready for anything. Conrad, I want you to assemble the most capable team from those able to fight,” Emmerich said. Conrad nodded.

“I want you to take Evelyn and Sara with you as well,” Emmerich finished. Conrad went rigid, but tried not to show it.

“Both of them sir?” he asked.

“You'll need a sniper for recon. Evelyn is one of our best,” Emmerich answered.

“And Sara?” he pressed.

“She may be able to lock in on the creature. Give you some insight to it's motivation. Or even give you the split second warning that will decide life or death out there,” Emmerich said. Conrad grimaced. He could say nothing. Liaisons between Templars was strictly forbidden. This was likely why. Still, Conrad and Sara had managed to keep it a secret from their compatriots. Still, Conrad was not pleased about bringing her into the fray.

Ten minutes later a black government van was driving down the road with nine Templars inside armed to the teeth. The van came to a stop at a police barricade in the warehouse district. Sirens wailed and hoses sprayed all around as fire fighters battled multiple infernos. Conrad flashed a ID badge to the officers on duty. After a few questions, and the officers realizing the men in the van were on highly confidential business, they passed through and parked under a sturdy overhang that was not currently on fire.

Sara exited the van first. Simon shot Conrad a displeased look inside the van.

“Women are bad luck on the battlefield,” Simon growled.

“What century are you from?” Conrad asked.

Simon snorted and exited the van. Multiple bags slung, machine guns in hand the Templars dismounted. The machine guns were largely for show. Regular guns were of little use against a pure demon. Evelyn took position on top of the van and leveled her scope.

“Where is it?” Conrad asked as he emerged from the van. Every Templar was double checking their guns. They knew every cop on the line was watching.

Sara winced and lost balance for a moment.

“What's wrong?” Conrad asked.

“So much anger and hate. I've never witnessed anything like it before. It is a well spring of pure hatred,” she replied.

“Just show us where it is and we'll send it back to Hell,” Conrad answered. Sara pointed. The team followed.

A plume of fire burst high into the sky. Cries of fear and awe went up from the crowds gathered nearby.

The Templars suited up into fire gear.

“Let's move,” Conrad said. Everyone moved in formation, following Conrad and Sara.

“My eyes won't be much good to you in there,” Evelyn called over the com-link.

“Understood. Keep an eye on the perimeter. Don't let this thing get away,” Conrad replied. Evelyn's sniper rifle was outfitted for an array of ammunition that the common man would never see. Mercury tips, silver bullets, incendiary rounds, amongst others. All dipped in Holy water and blessed by an Anglican bishop. She loaded the mercury rounds and said a silent prayer for those heading inside.

The rest headed toward the raging inferno, duffel bags in hand and found a point of entry. They left the empty guns near the entrance and pulled out their real weaponry. Blessed daggers, silver tipped bolts and crossbows, and enchanted swords.

“It's here,” Sara said quietly.

“Fan out. Stay within line of site,” Conrad called out.

They moved in formation, swords on their backs, crossbows in hand. Simon carried throwing knives. Conrad had not been able to dissuade him of this for the mission. Something rippled near the far landing on the second floor. Sara and Gunther steadied their crossbows. The ripple was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“It's here,” Simon stated.

“Clearly,” Conrad replied. Although the visor obscured visibility

Flames appeared again upon the landing.

“Get ready,” Conrad called out.

Then the flames leaped from the landing down

“Evade!” Conrad shouted. The Templars all dove and rolled out of the line of fire as flames burst upon the ground.

The Templars ran into attack positions. Gunther heading to the right and toward the staircase. Sara toward the left and into an alcove. A volley of crossbow bolts flew toward the demon. Flames surged up obscuring the Templars' vision. No one was sure if they'd landed a hit.

Conrad and Simon dropped their crossbows and pressed forward, silver loaded pistols in hand. They leveled and fired toward the source of the flames. An insidious, low, grating laughter echoed throughout the chamber. Simon and Conrad stood back to back, Sara and Gunther watching their backs, Stephen leading the rear guard.

Flames suddenly shot across the room in all directions, hitting the floor and walls in several places. A bombardment ensued with explosions and searing heat. Each Templar searched desperately for a mark, not being able to get a bead on the demon's location. Each Templar saw a flicker or ripple in the air and fired on their target.

In the midst of the explosions, crackling flame and gunfire a scream came from behind Conrad and Simon. They turned to see the flaming horror standing behind James, a hapless Templar impaled upon its elongated claws and writhing in flames and agony. He screamed piteously, trying to wrench himself free as the others turned to shoot. The demon hurled the flaming Templar toward his comrades, knocking Stephen and his cohorts to the ground. Simon and Conrad both rolled to avoid the incoming body and fired, each hitting their mark.

The demon hissed in disapproval. Sara's crossbow bolt seemed to cause the demon much greater displeasure. It turned its eye on her, and casually hurled more flames and fireballs toward the other Templars with the wave of its hand. Conrad and Simon both leaped back from the fire, coming closer to Gunther who had the crossbow leveled over their shoulders. Conrad heard Sara scream from beyond the flames before him.

He could not hear what Simon called out as he leaped through the flames toward Sara. He saw the demon standing over her, its hand around her throat, singing rubber and cloth to flesh. Conrad charged forward, swinging toward the demon. The demon blocked with a clawed hand and glared at Conrad with evil eyes full of inhuman hatred. Just seeing them was near enough to make even Conrad shit himself. But the demon dropped Sara, and so Conrad pressed his attack to clear it away from her.

Conrad swung his blade with fury and deftness. He was angry but had to keep his head and use every ounce of precision his considerable training had gained him.

“Get to the wounded!” Conrad called out. One Templar ran to Sara, the other to James, who was likely dead. Simon ran forward to assist Conrad.

Flames sparked on the demon's finger tips, so that every clang of sword metal brought forth searing heat that nearly burned the two Templars. The demon made an inhuman leap away from his attackers then putting its two hands together, its eyes glowed red and a shock wave of heat knocked Simon and Conrad to the ground.

It turned and swung hard against a support pillar, making the wall buckle. It looked up and laughed again. Conrad knew what would be coming next.

“Everyone out!” Conrad called out. He rushed over to help Stephen grab the wounded Templar. Gunther dismounted from the stairs. Simon rushed to grab Sara from the ground. At the edge of Conrad's vision he saw the demon appear behind Simon and strike the pillar behind him. Then he saw the second floor collapse into the first and watched Gunther disappear beneath a pile of wreckage and dust.

Conrad looked down to see Stephan's hand reaching out from beneath the wreckage. Another shock wave from the demon had made him lose his grip on the other fallen Templar. He frantically lifted debris off Stephan. Two other Templars assisted. Stephan was pulled free but seemed unable to move.

They checked for vitals. He was breathing. Conrad said a silent thanks to the Heavens.

He turned to see Sara lying on the ground with a tube in her throat. Simon's helmet was off.

“What happened?” Conrad asked as he rushed over.

“She couldn't breathe, the demon had collapsed her throat. I had to put in a shunt to allow airflow,” Simon replied, holding Sara's hand. Conrad looked around, surveying the wreckage all around. Officers and EMT's rushed over. Conrad felt eyes upon him that made his blood run cold. He looked over his shoulder to see the demon, perched upon a far rooftop, staring down at him. He swore he could hear its laughter upon the wind before it vanished. The battle was over.

“Evelyn, call Emmerich. We'll need an extraction,” Conrad called over the com-link.

“Understood,” Evelyn called back.

Late that night Conrad and Simon finally returned to base. The other two had been left to monitor the wounded in the hospital. Timothy rose as they entered the room. He could tell from their visage that all had not went well.

“What happened?” he asked.

Conrad was quiet for a moment before answering.

“We lost four. James was killed outright by the demon. Gunther, Philip and Ryan were crushed when the building collapsed. Stephan may never walk again but we at least got him free. Sara has third degree burns all over her neck and a collapsed trachea. She can't speak or breathe without assistance,” Conrad reported. Timothy was aghast and could only imagine what was going through Conrad's mind.

In his ten years in command Conrad had only lost two men. Two particularly dangerous missions each in which one Templar died. Four dead and two horrifically wounded was nothing short of a catastrophe.

“I bet you're really damn pleased about this!” Conrad turned and screamed at the demon.

“But I swear by all that's Holy that I will slay every last one of you if it's the last thing I ever do!”

Conrad threw a chair that shattered against the wall. Seething, he took measured breaths to steady himself. The demon spoke, its strange alien dialect. The room was quiet for several moments.

“What did he say?” Conrad asked. Timothy did not reply right away.

“What did he say!” Conrad shouted.

Timothy stammered for a moment before speaking.

“He-he says that he takes no pleasure in your fallen comrades,” Timothy replied.

“How does he know what I'm saying?” Conrad asked. He turned toward the demon.

“You speak English now?” Conrad asked the demon. It stood still and stoic.

Timothy replied to the demon in the same odd guttural dialect.

“What are you doing?” Conrad asked.

“I'm speaking to him,” Timothy said. The demon replied. Conrad took a long, slow breath.

“Just translate,” Conrad said with his eyes still closed.

“He says he knew men would die trying to face these arch-demons,” Timothy replied.

The demon extended a hand toward Conrad. Conrad felt the air shift in the room and turned to see the demon's outstretched hand. Simon, Conrad and Timothy all stared at it. It uttered another unintelligible statement. Then silence.

“What did he say now?” Conrad whispered.

“He wants to know if you'll take his offer now.”